Shadow War
by Draygon-Icewing
Summary: No longer content to pick through the remains of the war, one woman tries to do what she can. The shadows as her guide, she uses the one weapon she has to extract her pound of flesh from the Locust Horde. *Begins several weeks after the events of GOW 2*
1. Prologue

The air exploded in a symphony of war. The Boomers on either side of the square provided the bass drum beat; irregular and intense. Grubs supplied the delicate sounds of bullets flying over head and through concrete at near the speed of sound. The conductors of both sides shouted orders into the cacophony, redirecting the beat and the tempo as they desired. The ear-splitting soprano virtuoso of Wretches filled in the voids left by dying performers, slumping to the ground as bullets tore their bodies to shreds or howling in pain as lancers sliced them open. The beauty of it was lost on those cowering in shadows or behind barricades. Even blocks away the performance drove icy daggers of dread through those not brave enough to take up the conductors call.

Inside, the symphony took on a whole new meaning. Blind fire from both Gears and Grubs was the only thing to be heard apart from the Boomers trying to flush their pray out into the open for the Grubs to tear them into a bloody mess. The whole war seemed to be reflected in this one, small skirmish; a microcosm of the eternal struggle of two races, neither willing to budge an inch but forced to give ground. The dry soil drank both Human and Locust blood with equal gluttony. The sun seemed to beat down on both sides, adding to the chaos of sounds, a smell familiar to any who has fought long and hard on the battlefield among their own fallen. The scent of the dead was a thing unto itself; a creature that curled into their mouth and nose and let them know how strong their proud and mighty bodies really were.

For the Locust, their one and only thought was of their Queen. Her approval was something to be treasured, like the precious stones and metals that adorned the once magnificent statues of this broken and beaten world. Each fought on for the glory of the Horde, the one-mind. The Queen was all, and all were the Queen and her will could not be defied. To do so, would be to invite a fury into their minds the likes of which all the hells in existence would seem a paradise in comparison. To die in service of the All-Mother was an honor above even the privilege to breed. Their seed may live on for several generations, but their names would be remembered forever. The All-Mother never forgot those fallen in loyal service to her.

The Gears returning fire as fiercely as if they were a hundred score more numerous than the Locust army fought for another reason entirely. The glory they fought for was that of survival; the hope that their kind would live to see one more sunrise. Each battle was fought as though it was their last; and for many, it was. Unlike the masses of the Locust, they fought not for those who had come before them, but for those who would come after. They fought to be with their wives or lovers and children one more day. They fought so that one day, their children would not have to know the terror coursing through their veins as their best friend's head disappeared from his shoulders in an explosion of blood, bone and brains. Those who had survived long enough to grow out of their lust for battle had long ago come to the understanding that for all the training and physical modifications and armor, they were, in the end unable to stop that last bullet. The one with their name etched in blood and sweat and fear over its metallic surface. The one that would either take them quickly with a head shot, or let them linger on with a chest or gut wound, bleeding out like a Raven purging the last of its fuel before it crashed. Making the bang into a whimper.

But even though some of their members had been cut down so quickly their fingers still pulled the trigger of their lancers, the Gears fighting had something that the nearly innumerable Locust did not. Not even it's highest ranking General had the one gift that made the fight even possible. They had free will. The ability to assess a situation and deploy their own brand of a solution to a situation. Even though the commander of these Grubs was hunkered down behind the Troika, shouting orders between volleys of 30mm rounds ripping through the air; he was vulnerable. Because even though he had the infinite eyes of his All-Mother watching the battle for him, there were things that even the Locust Queen could not see, could not predict. Could not change.

One of those things sat hunkered down behind the two foot high wall that surrounded the roof of what once was a book store. The sniper rifle, loaded with so many modifications it would qualify as a lancer itself sat balanced on the lip of the roof, small hands gripping the stock and trigger. The small form waited, staying as silent and still as the dead now littering the park square once lush and green with life, now gray and red; the standard garb of death. Eyes the color of corroded copper watched and waited for their prey. The figure kept time by the flashing of the troika as the grub fired at anything that moved whether it be Locust or Human. Her quarry lay behind the troika. She dared not hit the shooter, dared not spoil the element of surprise. She knew that when the Commander's eyes met hers the game would be up. Once one knew of her presence, all would know. And she was not in the mood to die today.

The young woman watched as the grub behind the troika was over taken with blood lust, drunk off of the deaths of his own kind and the Gears falling into masses of steaming flesh. Several more young men met their end in blood and pain and still, she waited. She waited, patiently, not daring to wipe the sweat from her eyes should she miss her shot. She was not affiliated with either the Gears or the COG outpost on Jacinto Plateau. She had survived in the open since E-day. As she had watched the nightmare that had overtaken her world, she had descended into the shadows and not come back out. Even now she lay in shadow, the sun arching nearly overhead, her cover shrinking as the day grew long. And still she waited.

Fourteen years ago, she had been a secretary. She had started her position not six months before and she was still excited to be working for one of the top generals of the COG. She was old enough to remember the days before the nations had banded together in a loose knit Coalition of Organized Governments. COG for short. Like the spindles and wheels in a great machine, each nation fit into another. Each had a job and would function for the good of all who were citizens. Crime had disappeared almost overnight. So had hunger and greed as the society marched headlong into unity. Money was no longer an issue, because money was no longer in existence. It had seemed that paradise had descended upon every citizen of the COG. She should have known from the start, that such rapture was never meant to last.

It had been late evening, and she had stepped onto the sidewalk to make her way back to her apartment. It was small, but would serve her needs until an opening came in the larger suites for employees of the top brass. Her name had come up earlier that week, and she was scheduled to move in less than three days time. She was excited and looking forward to not having to walk fourteen blocks to the office. After that, her life would settle into a predictable rhythm and she would finely accept Stephen Young's request for a date. She had been smitten with the young man since she had been interviewed for the position, watching as he spoke with one of the higher ranking women of the Marines. She thought he was beautiful, intelligent, and when their eyes locked, she knew right away that this was it. It had to be. She had never felt the electric tingle race down her spine before his eyes met hers, before he had 'accidentally' brushed past her in the General's office to lay the stack of papers on his desk, touching her shoulder as though to keep his balance and not intrude the space between them.

It was not an accident. There were no accidents in love. Just as there were no accidents in war. Stephen was working late, he was always working late on weekends, putting in hours in exchange for privileges he could use later. Privileges like a bigger apartment, a vehicle and one day, a marriage license. Anyone was allowed to marry, but they had to work for that privilege, and Stephen was nearly a month from getting the necessary hours in to have his employer sign off on his license. Hers would follow soon afterward after she had cleared the necessary security checks. Her shoes clicked as she walked down the quiet streets. Vehicles were not needed this far into the city since all the places she would need to go were within a few minutes walk from her home. It seemed unreal to not have keys in her hands to enter her own apartment. She had the thumb scanner now, though it was not for safety as much as surveillance. Her employer needed to know where she was at all hours of the day and night in case someone might falsely accuse her of a crime, or if she committed one. She still was not entirely comfortable with the device, but she supposed time would help her become accustomed.

She turned the corner in front of a movie theater when she felt the small rumbles beneath her feet. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she continued on at a much slower pace. She continued to feel the small rumbles first as a tickling in her ear, then vibrations in her feet. Finely she began to see outward signs that she was not just imagining things. Loose pebbles and stones were bouncing along the streets and sidewalks or falling from the roofs of buildings. Windows began to rattle and people started turning out of offices to confirm that it was not just them feeling the rumble. She had never felt an earthquake before, but she imagined that even the longest lasting of them would not go on for two minutes. Each second the rumbling got stronger until she could barely walk up right and had to settle for a modified bear crawl to get out of the street. She sat on a near by park bench to wait the oddity out. But it kept getting stronger.

Soon the bolts holding the benches to the ground began to shake loose of their foundations. Cracks started forming in the marble and granite facades of the buildings and small pieces were already coming loose. People were in the streets in the hundreds by now, wondering what to do. Finely the shelter in place sirens began to wail, forcing the people back into the buildings. She had meant to follow, but as the rumbling reached a crescendo, she felt something deep below her crack. It felt like a two by four was broken against her legs and she fell to the street, struggling just to sit up. Dust and clouds of smoke billowed up from the offices she had come from, and slowly, the rumbling died down to a barely felt tremble. The silence was just as deafening as the rumbling roar.

It felt like the entire populace of the city was holding their breath, waiting for - something, anything. As she finely got to her feet, a new rumble began to grow from deep within the earth. She recalled staring at the cloud of smoke expectantly, wanting something, anything to happen. The screams started then. A few at first, but soon the voices rose to form a tidal wave of primal terror. She had to start running to avoid the thousands of people now filling the streets as they pushed and shoved and screamed and cursed and did everything they could to get out faster than the person beside them. She had ducked into an open doorway, dark as the last of the sun's rays were swept away as night drew the curtain of stars above them. The screams of people were joined by something more now.

As the last of the sun light faded, she began to hear inhuman howls carried in the wind. It was only faint at first, then exploded as the ground shook again, throwing her to the floor. Gun fire erupted, joined by the screams of people running as fast as their legs would carry them away from something she could not imagine. COG soldiers, the first Gears formed up and opened fire. She watched as they held their ground, their faces set in painful concentration as they kept their fingers on their triggers. She was still confused as to what was going on, until the line of Gears was torn apart by something so hideous her mind refused to even acknowledge its existence. She huddled in the shadows of the doorway, as blood flew into her face, staining her suit. The screams of the last Gear finely died as a massive creature crushed his head beneath its boot. The creature roared again, sniffing the air as it turned its hideous head from one direction to another, unable to decide where to go first.

One of the white masses pointed toward the northern part of the city, hissing instructions to the behemoth and following her charge as more explosions rocked the city. She could not move, could not look away from what had become of the Gears. She had never known such savagery existed outside of nightmares. For her, the sun never rose after that day. She always hung in the shadows, covered from head to foot in grime and the blood of slaughtered Locust. Nothing would touch her as long as she was covered in fresh gore, but even hiding no longer became possible. Humanity had begun its slow descent into oblivion, and while picking through what was left of both Locust and Gears, she had found a fully functioning rifle. It was not automatic, but it would suit her needs. She practiced, shooting targets like cinder blocks and boulders until she got good enough to shoot the tops off of beer bottles at four hundred feet.

It no longer became possible to simply pick through the remains of humanity's struggles. She used her one weapon, and she found the weakness of the Horde. There was an old saying among war planners. The enemy they faced, at least in their mind, was like a great snake. If the tail was struck first, it would coil itself and strike from its position of strength. But if it's head was removed, the snake would die with little or no fight. She had found the head of the many snakes that made up the Locust Horde. For all her omniscience, the Locust Queen still needed her Generals and Commanders to convey her wants to the grubs who had a limited or non-existent understanding of tactics. If left to their own devices, they would walk right into a lancer whose chain-saw bayonet was revved at full speed. If their commander was killed, they would fly apart and be picked off by the sweeping arcs of blind fire.

She waited, watching the troika as the shooter swung the gun to its right to pick off the Gears who had entered the building and hoped to use it to take out this annoyance. Her finger stayed until she saw the full roundness of the commander's head. Her finger flexed once, the gun kicking into her shoulder as the bullet hit home. The troika shooter had not yet noticed that his commander was dead and continued to haze the building to his right with bullets. Another twitch of her finger, and what was left of the grub landed heavily on the headless body of its commander. The troika went silent before the square exploded with grenades and lancer fire, taking the rest of the confused grubs out until the last one hit the ground with a hole the size of an ostrich egg in his chest.

The surviving Gears ventured out into the park, their eyes on the building across the square. They checked the dead, and gathered ammo to replenish what they had used. Some started passing around canteens of water and small rations of food as their bodies healed from the bullet wounds. The squad leader stuffed a piece of jerkey in his mouth as he brought a pair of binoculars to his face. His eyes fell onto the bookstore roof as the sun drove the last of the shadows away to reveal an empty building. He handed the binoculars back to his second in command as he chewed on the jerky thoughtfully before he turned to his men. "Delta squad! Form up and move out!"


	2. Chapter 1

Marcus Fenix felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle again. For the third time today, he was certain the rippling heat coming off of the roofs of the surrounding buildings were tricking his eyes. He and Delta squad had been assigned to guard a convoy of survivors toward a relatively safe location picked out by Chairman Prescott. Since a large group of Gears and their families would be too tempting a target for Locust, the decision had been made to split the groups up. After the sinking of Jacinto Plateau, the COG had been hard pressed to provide for the safety of its own soldiers. So many were lost just trying to defend their wives and children from straggling parties of Wretches and Grubs. With the very future of the human race resting inside the three derricks trailing behind his and Dom's APC, Delta Squad was on edge.

Baird and Cole trailing behind seemed to be taking the entire assignment in stride, all be it with a bit of cynicism from Baird. Some of the women had taken to calling him Mrs. Baird because of his constant complaining. The moniker had served to shut the Sargent up for the time being. Cole, on the other hand, when he wasn't manning the turret on his APC was hamming it up with some of the younger single women riding in the derricks. Most were not quite old enough to remember his Thrash ball days, but their parents fawning and his likable nature soon had him very popular among the young women. Even Baird had a bit of a following, though the women he attracted had humors just as biting as his and he found himself beset on all sides with razor sharp jokes and barbs that left even him speechless. Needless to say, he was in heaven.

The same could not be said for Dom. The Lieutenant exhibited no outward signs of distress. He was quiet, focused and single minded in his hatred for the Locust that attacked the convoy. Though nothing he said or did not say could hide what he was feeling from one of his best friends. Normally, Dom would be talking his head off, so hopeful and enthusiastic about his mission. He had had the hope of finding Maria to spur him on. He had spent more than fourteen years searching for his wife, never giving up hope that they would soon be reunited. Till death do us part.

And it was death that had parted them. When he had found his wife, she had not even known it was he who was holding her. She had lain limp in his arms, silent, vacant. Her mind had left her long before he had rescued Marcus from prison. Even before the COG had retreated to Jacinto Plateau. His wife's soul was gone, but her body was still forced to work in conditions that would drive even a Gear suicidal, as it had Tai. Dom loved his wife beyond all measure and it became clear that letting her live, even in safety, was a torture he refused to subject her to. He had done the only thing he could do for his beloved, his last act of devotion, burying a bullet in her brain pan. It seemed that he had killed a part of himself that day.

Marcus glanced up to the roofs again, wondering if the shadow he saw from time to time was a Locust scout or something else. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that this was 'something else' since no Locust he knew could leap roof tops in broad daylight. He had not seen the figure for some time but that did not mean that they were not being watched. As he brought his canteen up to his lips, he saw a shadow dart from one of the windows ahead. He stopped in mid-sip, watching the building. "Dom," he whispered, leaning down to tap his friend on the shoulder. What ever trance he had been in was broken as Marcus pointed to the windows of the large building to their right. Dom watched the shadows moving parallel to them, perhaps to flank them at the intersection ahead. Marcus pressed his finger to his ear bud, opening the channel to the derricks.

"Stay focused. Cole, Baird, keep an eye behind us, I think we're being flanked. They might try to ambush us up ahead." As soon as Marcus closed the connection, his fears were confirmed. E-holes were opening up in the intersection ahead of them and from the shouting at the rear of the convoy, behind them as well. As Dom leaned forward to apply the brake to their APC, he felt the bullet that just grazed his skull bury itself behind the spot his head had occupied just seconds before. "Snipers!" Every Gear riding on the derricks got low to the deck, blind firing over their shoulders at the buildings to suppress any more sniper fire. Marcus and Cole manned their respective turrets and started mowing down Locusts.

There were half a dozen Emergence holes ahead of Marcus and he was hard pressed to keep all of them covered with both turrets. "Epsilon! Get grenades out and close up those holes so we can get out of here!" With that many E-holes appearing ahead and behind them, everyone knew there had to be a Corpser or two in the area. That alone was enough to make even Cole want to get the hell out. Marcus focused on the Locust ahead of him, not moving until those in his sights were nothing but bloody chunks on the concrete. Several of the grenades Epsilon had thrown had hit home, reducing the E-holes around them to three in front and four behind. Though Locust were still pouring out by the dozens, each wave getting closer and closer to the convoy.

Marcus clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes focused on the targets ahead of him. One more hole closed ahead and one more left behind and still more Locust were assailing the convoy. Cole and Baird behind were treating the Locust to more of the same, strafing up and down their lines in short bursts. The derrick operators had climbed out from behind the wheel to operate the turrets to spray those Locust that got through the front and rear defenses. The Locust dead were piling up in front and behind, Epsilon squad coming out of hiding to pick off those they could with either Lancer or Snub Pistol.

"Uhh...Marcus," Baird stuck his head out of his APC, feeling comfortable enough as the last E-hole was closed. Marcus responded with a grunt, still watching out for any more E-holes to open up. "Where'd the Snipers go?" The question struck Marcus as odd, so he too poked his head out of his APC, looking around them to the eerily silent buildings. He got the same feeling of the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he observed their shadow's handy work. Several snipers lay on the concrete at the base of the building, not one bullet hole in their bodies. What killed them, it seemed, was some kind of blade directly in the back. Others were in various stages of decapitation or evisceration, entrails still steaming on the hot concrete. The fall on its own would have killed them never mind having a blade run through them.

"Freaky..." Cole had none of his flamboyant banter today. "You think someone's trying to mess with us?"

Marcus shook his head, watching the shadows inside the building and on the street. "I think someone is trying to help us," Marcus gave up his search for their ghost, retreating inside his APC again, still uncomfortable with the whole situation. Just before the E-holes had opened up, he could have sworn he saw a small Locust jumping a gap between the buildings they were in front of. He shook his head, trying to forget it. It had to have been a trick of the shadows since no Grub was that small and no Wretch was that big. "All the same, lets get the hell out of here before more Grubs try to crawl up our ass."

* * *

It was well after sunset when the convoy had settled itself in the shadow of a large wall. The engineers mounted high powered lights to drive away the kryll that had begun their nightly hunt. Marcus and Baird stalked up and down the line of derricks, watching for any movement where the light faded into the surrounding pitch black. Baird shouldered his favorite toy, a Scorcher Flamethrower that had ended many a Locust charge and turned them into fast food as their charred corpses rolled downstairs or slid along floors by their momentum. Neither noticed as a small figure dressed in the skins of Grubs settle behind the spot lights, taking comfort in the warmth they emitted as she drew her cloak around her and settled into a light sleep.

"So," Damon paused, watching the windows of the buildings across the square. "you think this plan's gonna work," he barely gave Marcus time to answer. "I mean, not that I don't trust Prescott," Marcus let Baird talk, thinking that he needed to get this off his chest. "or Hoffman, you know? It's just - well - were dropping like flies, Marcus. I remember when Jacinto was first set up. There were millions of men and women and lots of babies everywhere." Marcus inclined his head, he had a feeling he knew where this was going. Baird stared out into the darkness, trying to find the words to express what he was feeling without sounding like a pussy. "I'm afraid I'll be cold and dead before I get to have one."

Marcus nodded. "Yep. It'd be awful hard to conceive a baby with a corpse." He smirked when he saw the disgusted look on Baird's face. "So why don't you get in there and find you a girl, or three?" Marcus had to laugh at the slack jawed stare he was getting from Baird. "It'd be a damn shame if Cole had to repopulate this planet all by himself. Probably be disabled with a chronic butt cramp, or something."

Baird gagged, shaking his head to get that picture out of it. "Thanks," he wasn't sure if he should be disgusted or laugh at the mental image of the Cole-Train with his butt in a sling. "You sure you don't mind?"

"Baird, if I have to stand here and listen to you complain about not getting laid one more time, I will shoot you myself. Got it?"

Damon saluted. "Yessir," and whirled around with a flourish, making good time up the middle derrick and into its main hold. Marcus shook his head, relaxing his shoulders somewhat as he made his circuit in front of the convoy. It was looking like a quiet night, which he welcomed. Peace and quiet were two things he had not experienced in a long, long time and he drank them in as he did the water from his canteen.

His smile softned when he heard his connection to the rest of humanity come on to wish him a good night. "Good night, Anya," he responded softly. "Stay safe." Her soft promise to do so as she handed her station over to the night shift kept him warm through the night.


	3. Chapter 2

It had taken the convoy nearly three days to make it out of of the city. As soon as they had hit the open freeway, they had not slowed down for anything, not even nightfall. The rough ride had already worn a sore in Marcus' rear end, making it hard to sit on any surface without wincing. Right now he was trying to keep himself from making any kind of contact with the seat below him, grunting in pain as his APC hit another rock, sending the suspension bouncing like a bucking Blood Mount. Dom, in front of him had no such luxury. Their orders were simple; clear the outskirts as fast as possible and not stop until they got to the new headquarters at Phillipe Mesa nearly 150 miles due south of their current position. Apparently Chairman Prescott thought that the salt flats surrounding the mesas of the Corsica Sea Desert would be a sufficient deterrent to a Locust counter-offensive that he chanced splitting up the remaining human populations among the granite and coral islands.

From what Marcus had heard about the desert, he had to agree with the Chairman. The salt flats were once part of a great sea that supplied shipping lanes from one end of the continent to the other. However, after the COG had implemented their 'Scorched Earth' policy, the sea had disappeared. No one knew for sure, but there was speculation that the blast from the Hammer had destroyed one of the main springs that supplied water to the sea, turning the surrounding lands into a swamp, and the sea into a desert. Just one of the many reasons the Stranded held a special place in their hearts for blowing the heads off of Gears.

The other reason Chairman Prescott favored the salt flats was because of the sun. Back when this had been a thriving sea port, it had also been a vacationing spot for many people wanting to take advantage of the sun and balmy climate. It had been a tropical paradise near the southern end of the sea with the sun shining nearly all year long. Any storms to be had came in at night fall and could do nothing to mar the landscape. Now that the water was gone, not a drop of rain had fallen in nearly a decade, cracking the ground and hardening the salt into a mirror like surface that gave the desert its nick name; Blind Flats. Prescott was hoping that the intensity of the sun reflecting off of the flats would protect them at least until they had their defenses up.

Epsilon Squad, all eight men strong, sat on the tops of the derricks, popping shots off at Tickers that were able to get in range of a sniper rifle. At their current rate of speed their efforts seemed futile, perhaps desperate. The convoys were maintaining radio silence with each other in case their transmissions were being listened to with a captured comm, so it was impossible to tell if the others were dealing with the same hardships they were. Pvt. Lei was keeping a running tab with his buddies in Epsilon on who could 'pop' more tickers in a day. The day previous Lt. Cates, a diminutive looking man with stark gray eyes had taken down thirteen tickers in a twelve hour period, though this was nothing compared to the newest Epsilon, Pvt. Rheems, who had 'popped' twenty-three of the ugly 'exploding boogers'.

"Hey, Baird," Rheems got off another shot that splattered a ticker across the dirt in all directions. "I saved one for you." Baird had changed places with Cole as gunner in the rear APC, though he was refusing to keep count of how many Tickers he had splattered, which reinforced his nick name of Mrs. Baird with the others in Epsilon. "What say we give you ten and let you start from there?" Rheems knew this would piss Baird off since he was already sore about it being suggested two nights previous that he had tried to up his 'score' with Lt. Cates' daughter. He and Raine were simply in the rear derrick's main wheel well checking a lube line for leaks when her father had spotted Baird reaching over his baby girl to get the 5/16 wrench. The resulting shouting match had proven difficult for Baird to live down.

"Gee, just what I always wanted, a fully armed snot ball." He snarled as he pulled the trigger and blew the Ticker into a greasy smear across the side of his APC. He was not going to tell those rooks up on the derricks that he had blown twice as many as they had. It only encouraged Rheems and his laugh academy graduates to keep their teasing up. He was not about to tell their commander that he was interested in his daughter and had used her love of machines to 'set the mood'. Raine was being kept securely in the middle derrick and away from Baird, which made him all the more irritable. It seemed that the others didn't mind that Cole was doing the same thing to the other women that he had been doing with the derrick. Baird snorted at that thought, thinking of all the girls swarming Cole and begging to have his child.

"Don't worry, baby," Cole laughed as Baird shot him a nasty look. "Cates' girl gonna soften him up. Ain't like he can watch her all the the time, anyway." Baird smirked, shaking his head. "If it makes you feel any better, he ain't that great a shot at long distances. 'Specially when you're runnin' away from him."

"Fuck you," Baird kicked the back of Cole's seat, thought not hard enough to distract him from driving the APC. Cole only laughed.

"You'll get it right one of these days. Then every one will want to ride the 'Baird-train."

"Ugh. If I ever call myself that, please shoot me!" Baird squeezed off a shot, sending another Ticker tumbling away until it exploded. As the flash faded into the dust cloud left behind the convoy, Baird thought he saw something on the side of the derrick ahead of him. He blinked and what ever it was was gone. Baird shook his head as he picked off another Ticker, thinking that the setting sun must have cast an odd shadow on the derrick and pushed the oddity out of his mind. The Tickers were falling away from their pursuit as the sun fell below the western horizon.

The derricks ahead of him turned on their running lights to keep the kryll away and to illuminate the flat, arid plains around them should anything try to sneak up on them in the dark. With nothing to shoot at, Baird had to sit tight in his seat and try not to hit his head on the ceiling with every bump. Just to occupy his time, he took out a small geo-bot he had been tinkering with for the better part of a week. It was nothing pressing, just something to pass the time until he had something to shoot at again. As he took off the back panel to poke around inside, he thought of Lt. Cates' daughter.

The girl was as much of a tech-head as he was, more than happy to get elbow deep in axle grease to repair the derricks. He had spotted her two days ago with an old set of tools trying to replace a leaky seal on the lube line. She didn't have the strength to keep the tube in place while it was still filled with the lubricant used to keep the brakes from rusting in the wet climate they were running from. She and her father had been on their own since her mother passed away from Rust-lung a few months before. She had taken it in stride, but her father was still beside himself since he had been out running missions for the COG when she had died. He tried to keep her close, knowing that she was all he had left of his wife.

Baird had rushed in to help Raine with the lube line, holding it in as she tightened the lug that held it in place. The two had fallen into light conversation as Baird used the tools to make a few needed repairs to the brake lines. As he had reached over the young woman to grab another wrench, their eyes had met. He didn't know how long he had stayed in that position, staring into her chocolate brown eyes. But when he had lowered his head just the fraction of an inch to bring his lips to hers, her father had chosen that moment to physically pull him out of the wheel well and proceed to chew him a new asshole loud enough to alert every Locust in the vicinity. He hadn't seen Raine since, though that did not mean that she was out of his thoughts.

Baird shifted, shaking his head to clear it. Now was not a good time to be thinking of her, and he knew that Cole would not be very understanding if he took care of his frustration inside the APC. Though it just might entertain the rooks of Epsilon and guarantee that he would never see Raine again if he even so much as breathed the wrong way. So, he bit the inside of his mouth and tried to think of the most disgusting thing he could. A Boomer in pink, Wretches dressed up like babies, even Marcus in a black leotard with pink stockings dancing to some teenager's love song. The only thing the last image got him was a strange look from Cole as he nearly dropped the geo-bot trying to suppress his laughter. Maybe not the best method. So, he concentrated on the mission instead, going over Col. Hoffman's words in his head when he spoted an odd shadow on the derrick in front of him. Again, as soon as he blinked, it disappeared. He wondered if the shadow that had tailed them all through out the city had hitched a ride on the derricks. And if so, who's side was it really on?


	4. Chapter 3

The entire cafeteria looked up as a pair of women made their way in, heads together as they talked loudly, giggling to themselves. The two were the most opposite they could be, and yet they had formed a friendship that had lasted them through the horrors of the Pendulum Wars and into the employment of the COG. They were sisters in every since of the word. Azure, who was jumping up and down in her black flats, was so small she was often mistaken for a young teenage boy. Her long cinnabar hair did little to accentuate her subtle curves which all but disappeared in her COG uniform. Her pale face was flushed pink from having rushed all the way from the other side of the complex to meet her best friend, Bea for lunch and to share in the good news.

Bea was strutting into the cafeteria, wearing a smile that would have beat the Hammer of Dawn for brightness. Though the ring on her left hand would have trumped her smile. It sparkled as she held it out in in front of her like a sign of royalty. Three other women in the cafeteria spotted the stone on her finger and nearly deafened the group of lunching Generals and their wives who looked upon the scene with nostalgia, remembering when they had first gotten married. Though those times were long gone. Gone, also was the luxury of waiting a few years before having kids. It had gone from encouragement to an outright duty of all married couples to conceive within the first 24 months of their marriage. The dark skinned beauty who wore the biggest rock her friends had ever seen would not have to wait, she was already pregnant.

The young women clucked like a group of hens, settling into the comfort of female gossip. The final member of this motley crew came trotting into the cafeteria, her color high as she re-did the top button on her uniform. She made sure her hair was still presentable before she slid right in next to Azure, all eyes on her. "What?"

"You know what," Bea had lowered her voice, getting in close. "So?"

"So, what?" All the girls started laughing again, leaning in so that there was no where for the straggler to run.

"Where were you," Azure got in on her, leaning in as she narrowed her eyes. "Hmmm?"

The slight break in her attempt at playing dumb was all her friends needed to see. The cafeteria exploded again with the cheers and squeals of young women as they patted their youngest friend on the back. Apparently, fooling around with the guy you liked in the office of the officer he worked for without getting caught was somewhat of a sport. It was even the subject of high stakes wagers among the men-folk.

The salt and pepper shakers danced across the tables as the ground trembled slightly under them, making the people sitting have to grab for their forks and knives before they clattered to the ground. The girls looked more annoyed than troubled, though Azure had a sly smirk on her face as she put the shakers back where they belonged. "Sounds like someone 'christened' another office."

* * *

The small storage compartment was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, its sole occupant crowded among the loose bits of machinery and spare parts and curled up in Locust hide. She had to wait for her mind to clear enough for her to chance extricating herself from the compartment. She rubbed the side of her face, feeling the deep trench in her skin that deformed as she grimaced, making one side of her mouth look as though she were constantly smiling. Her skin was the color of the dirt outside, grime rubbed into her pores where she had clung to the side of the derrick during the early evening. She shook her head, trying to shove the memory of her dream back down. It was so long ago she was surprised she had remembered even two of her friends names.

Though, she knew that like all things in her previous life, they, too would fade into darkness. Fade just like the sound of Stephen's voice, or the feel of his lips on hers. Her parents names along with the cemetery they were buried in was lost in the mists of her memory. Gone, too was the battlefield they had fought and died on; the color of her father's eyes or her mother's hair. Even her own face had faded into that abyss between then and now. She pulled her hood over her head as she opened up the trap door to reveal dirt speeding past her so fast she could only register the color brown. Her hands checking that she had everything she needed, she climbed out of the compartment to hang on the underside of the derrick. She closed the trapdoor, leaving her dreams and memories down the same dark hole her own name had fallen into.

* * *

Baird gritted his teeth as the APC he was riding shot-gun in bounced in more of the divots created by the vehicles ahead of them. He had endured this torture for four days and he was eagerly waiting for the moment when his rear end would go numb. Unfortunately, every time he thought he had reached that point, Cole would intentionally hit another low spot in the ground and send Baird bouncing from seat to ceiling with a roar of rage. Cole seemed entertained by the 'thunk, smack, thunk' his head and rear end made when they slammed into their respective obstacles. His uncontrollable laughter at Baird's renewed fit of swearing filtered through to Marcus' ear piece. The lead of Delta squad shook his head. Baird would be likely to kill Cole when they finely got to Phillipe Mesa.

"Shit! Marcus! Are we there yet? I feel like I'm getting ass fucked by a Brumak!" Dom in the front seat nearly sprayed the water in his mouth all over the windshield, coughing and pounding his chest until it all went down the correct pipe. That mental image was almost too much as he swerved to keep his position as lead in the convoy.

"Almost makes me wonder how he knows what that would feel like," Dom quipped back, getting a rather clipped, two worded response from Baird over the comm, Cole's bawdy laughter in the background. "What's the matter, Baird? I thought everyone loved to ride the Cole-Train?"

"Yea, baby!" Cole glanced back at his winy passenger, winking. "That's what all the ladies say!"

"Can't see why they would," Baird winced again as his head bounced off the back of his seat. "after a few minutes it gets really old."

Cole smirked. "Probably 'cause you need to relax, baby! Lean back, close your eyes and let the Cole-Train take the lead."

Baird narrowed his eyes at Cole, fighting the urge to kick the back of his head. "Dammit, Cole...if you hump the steering column one more time, I am going to bail."

"What? I ain't gettin' any complaints from ole' girl." Cole patted the console to his left, stroking it almost as though it were his lover. "Every body needs some lovin'," Cole laughed at Baird's silence, looking back to see if the Sargent had actually bailed out of the APC.

"I don't think it's 'Ole Girl' that needs the lovin', Cole," Dom laughed over the comm, forgetting everything as he laughed over the conversation the other two Gears were having behind him. Marcus had decided to stay out of this one. Everyone needed to blow some steam, and he sympathized with Baird. His ass felt much the same, though he doubted it felt anywhere near what a Brumak would do if given half the chance. "What's the Sit-Rep on that pretty young lady you were about to clean your pipes with? ... Baird?"

"I'm not talking to you, Dom. Maybe you can strike up a conversation with my hemorrhoid instead!"

"No thanks," Dom smiled. "But I know a Brumak who wouldn't mind." Marcus barked a laugh into the comm, the others joining in as Baird fell silent again.


	5. Chapter 4

Baird grumbled loudly, picking bits of rock and a few miscellaneous pieces of desert reptile that had gotten stuck on the axle when the left rear tire of the middle derrick had mysteriously decided to migrate off of the hub and onto the desert floor. Having done so in one piece would have been a minor headache, but the tire had chosen instead to separate treads first and everything else in a messy tangle afterward, trailing behind like a baseball that had just been knocked out of its covering. Not that he did not welcome the respite from Cole's sadistic driving style, and the chance to have a decent bowel movement (which had left the Sargent in a much better mood), however they were now stuck half way between their origin and destination with several hours of work ahead of him. Honestly, was he the only one who had actually learned how to fix things?

He was sorely tempted to use his lancer to cut through the mess of steel-belts that had tangled up into a ball after the tread had left it. It may have been satisfying, however it would have made his job even harder, so he settled for a pair of wire cutters he had fished out of the storage compartment. It had taken him all of half an hour just to get the mess off of the hub. Now came the fun part, hammering the thing back into shape so that it would hold a new tire without that one flying off and bouncing into the sunset. That, as it turned out, was a job for Epsilon. Baird did not question the reason, he was just glad he would not have to hammer the massive hub back into shape by himself.

He hung back toward the rear derrick. Cole was enjoying the respite, taking his armor off and washing the inside of sweat and dirt that had accumulated there. His undershirt was off and drying on a nearby line while he washed his chest and arms. Though he made a show out of it, like he did everything else by flexing his muscles as he washed the dirt off of his body. Several young women were busy watching with rapt attention as Cole turned his front from view and washed everything below the belt. Despite him rolling his eyes at the show, Baird had to admit that a bath sounded wonderful. There were several atmospheric water generators on board the derricks that had filled 65 gallon barrels full of sparkling clean water.

Baird decided that he liked the idea of clean armor and headed up the ladder to the middle derrick, since Cole was using the water from the rear derrick. He descended into the body and made his way to the back of the derrick toward the water generator, unbuckling the straps on his armor with each step. He was so eager, he did not notice a small, slender form following close behind him, her right hand behind her back. Just as Baird lifted his armor over his head, a pair of hands crept around his middle and latched onto his belt buckle. He threw his armor down and spun around, holding his would be assailant in his thick arms. Though he had to blink a couple of times to register that it was Raine he was holding in his arms. She giggled up at him, her arms still pinned by his. "Did I scare you?"

Baird shifted his eyes around the interior of the derrick, almost expecting Raine's father to come out of the shadows with a lancer trained on him. "A little," he lied, loosening his grip around her until he had his arms around the small of her back. "Come to watch me play in the water," he asked, stirring his hand in the cool water of the storage barrel, splashing Raine with stray droplets.

Raine smiled even brighter as she held up the rag she had made from some of her more beat up clothing. "Actually, I came here to give you a good rub-down." Baird could swear he heard more than just her wanting to give him a bath, but he wouldn't force the issue. Besides, who was he to refuse a lovely young woman wanting to bathe him? He smirked as she started undoing the wide belt at his hips as he lifted the shirt off of himself. She dipped the rag in the water and laid it on his chest, washing the dirt and grime that had clung to the sweat on his skin. She wasn't too worried about getting the water dirty since it could be recycled before drinking. She took his shirt and washed it, hanging it to dry over a line used as a divider for the men and women sleeping inside. She gave his armor the same treatment until the metal squeaked with her scrubbing.

Baird had busied himself taking off his pants and boots. He had learned to live without underwear during his training since trying to straighten the material out after hard running left him feeling very uncomfortable. At least this way, his skin could breathe and they all got less of the chafing that came with screwing around with undergarments that soaked up all the sweat and stuck to their skin. He dipped his pants into the water and scrubbed until all the dirt clods sank to the bottom of the barrel, his pants returning to their original gray. He was busy washing his boots when Raine came from behind and laid the wet rag on his back. She giggled as he hissed in surprise, his muscles unclenching as he got used to the cool water running down his rear. If he didn't know any better, Baird would have thought she was teasing him.

He hung his boots upside down on the line and turned around, catching her wrists in his hands. A slow, sly smile spread across his face as he took the rag from her. He dipped it into the barrel behind him and gently wiped the dirt that had stuck to her face. She was guided to he barrel and he leaned her back so that he could wash her hair. His muscled arms held her as he massaged her scalp, drawing a contented sigh from her as she closed her eyes. Baird took advantage and lowered his lips to hers. He was surprised by the force she used to kiss him back, gripping his spiked hair in her hand as she straightened up. She pulled away from him, her lips glistening and swollen. She laid her finger on his lips as she took the rag back and resumed washing his body.

Baird was already keyed up from the kiss and Raine tortured him with her slow bathing of his skin. They continued washing each other with the rag, Baird slowly removing the overalls Raine wore, running the rag over her sun kissed skin. The rag dropped to the floor, all but forgotten as Baird wrapped his thickly muscled arms around Raine and lifted her to her tip toes as they lost themselves in the kiss. Raine kicked her overalls off of her feet followed by her boxers and bra, wrapping her arms around Baird's shoulders and jumping into his embrace as she continued the kiss she had broken. Both fumbled their way to one of the cots that lined the walls and sank onto the poorly cushioned mattress, springs squeaking under them. Neither seemed to care as Raine reached between them to guide their bodies together.

Baird pressed his body against hers when he heard the unmistakeable sound of fully automatic gun fire. "Shit!" Both Baird and Raine jumped up from the cot, Raine helping Baird back into his still wet armor, tying his boots within the space of a few seconds. He hefted his lancer in one hand and drew Raine in for one last kiss before he ran to the ladder and practicly threw himself out of the interior of the derrick. Raine watched him go, searing anger boiling in her chest as she kicked the drum of water, not caring how much it hurt.


	6. Chapter 5

Dom shouldered his way past Baird, keeping his head as low as possible while he got into a better position behind the lead derrick's middle wheel. He sent out as much blind fire as he could to keep the approaching Locust from coming any closer and to keep any Tickers from getting any bright ideas about blowing themselves up on the derrick. He could tell from the body language and still wet clothing that the Locust had interrupted more than just the repairs on the middle derrick's wheel hub. Baird was pissed. More pissed than usual because he was deadly silent as he sent several dozen bullets toward an advancing drone, nearly all finding a new home in the creatures crotch. Dom tried not to say anything or the next thing getting it's jewels shot off could be him.

Dom was focused more on a pair of tickers than Baird's apparent moodiness. Not that either were an uncommon sight. The two walking bombs exploded into streaks of liquefied flesh less than twenty feet from the derrick. Slightly dazed, ears still ringing Dom lowered his hands from his eyes just in time to be caught in the shoulder by a stray Locust bullet. The thing burned like molten metal in his arm. He ducked behind the wheel as more of those bullets sailed through the space he had just occupied. Holding his Lancer to his chest to catch his breath, Dom found himself staring straight into the eyes of a Ticker. The thing was literally vibrating as the fuses on the explosives strapped to it's back disappeared.

He had just enough time to grab Baird by the collar of his armor and haul him bodily out of the way. He had only taken a few steps when the creature exploded, sending him ass first in the air and onto a half dead Locust; now fully dead from breaking Dom's fall, though the impact jarred him almost as much as landing on solid ground would have. It took him a few moments to get his bearings and what he found he did not like one bit. The line of derricks was some thirty feet away, the one he and Baird had just been under was now lying on it's side, smoke rising from it's undercarriage. He hoped that anyone left inside was still alive. He quickly brought his thoughts back to his own situation, because he had not only been thrown from the derricks, he had been thrown directly into a line of advancing Locust.

Dom brought up his Lancer and fired off a quick volley that caught the foremost Drone in the face. He scrambled to his feet, strafing the line of Locust with blind fire as he backpedaled toward cover. The only problem with this was that with the flatness of the plains, there was almost no cover to be had unless he could squeeze himself behind the odd prickly shrub that was not on fire or trampled to the ground. Dom glanced over his shoulder toward the others still firing toward the Locust in front of him. He was nearly half way to the derricks when he heard something go 'thunk' at his feet. He had just registered what that something was when something else slammed into his side. Dom landed on the ground hard, his face in the dirt as a weight pushed down on him from behind. The weight stayed on him along with the stench of Locust until the the frag exploded.

Dom rolled to his back, lancer ready to put holes in who ever had pushed him. But all he saw in front of him were dead Locust and a Boomshield that had been shoved into the ground to protect him from the shrapnel. He shoved himself to his feet, not having time to ponder what had just happened and made his way back to where the rest of the Gears were taking cover behind the massive wheels of the last two derricks. Baird clapped a hand on his shoulder just as something sailed right by Dom and hit him square between the eyes. As he stepped back, ready to run should this be an explosive, another landed a foot away by Dom's knee. Baird picked the object up, turning it around in his hands. It took him a few moments to realize that what had hit him was a full magazine. By then, two more had landed by them, making three full magazines for their lancers and one for their pistols.

Marcus took one of the lancer magazines and pocketed it. His eyes darted around as he tried to find who ever had thrown them, but all he saw was sand and blood around the derricks. Several explosions could be heard in the distance, sand blown up like geysers, raining down on them. In between the sound of blind fire from both sides, the steady _boom, click, boom_ of a Longshot could be heard. The sound put every one of the Gears on edge as each tried to avoid putting their heads into a sniper's sights. Not even the silence could get them up the ladder to the top of the derricks. But along with the gunfire, the sniper fire had stopped as well. The convoy, or what was left of it was going to have to get moving in case the Corpser that had opened those E-holes showed up to punch a few more. Dom chanced it first, jumped from behind the middle wheel and high tailed it to the lead APC.

The others waited several seconds before scrambeling up the ladders or sprinting to the rear APC. Pvt. Rheems was about to be the last of Epsilon on the rear derrick when he spotted something moving among the bodies. He let go of the rungs, grasping his Boltock pistol as he flipped the safety off. He waited as the trailing derrick started moving, eying the now quiet battlefield for any movement. After a few moments he flipped the safety back on and caught the ladder. As he stepped onto the deck, a dark object flew over the rail and landed several feet from him.

He and several others from Epsilon pointed their Lancers or Hammerbursts at it, backing away in case the package exploded. Rheems stepped forward and opened the pack and dumped the contents out onto the deck. Inside what he discovered was a Locust ammo pack, were several canteens of water, scavenged medical supplies, ammo clips and a few grenades. He rushed to the edge as he heard commotion from the lead derrick. He looked over the edge and back to the now retreating battlefield. The only thing out of the ordinary was a set of small tracks coming from the bodies to where the derricks had been parked.

Marcus pressed his ear piece as he listened to the activity aboard the derricks. The leader of Delta squad shook his head, holding the now empty ammo pack in his hands. Dom was sampling one of the water canteens from inside and handed it back to Marcus who took a drink from it as well. The food from inside was dried Rockworm meat, but at least it was still fresh. Delta had developed a taste for Rockworm during their time in the Locust tunnels. According to Baird, it tasted like tough pork loin but it beat most of what they scavenged by a long shot.

"Hey Marcus," Baird's voice filtered into his ear, the amusement hard to miss. "You get a gift too?" Marcus confirmed that they had indeed found the pack waiting for them in their APC when they scrambled in. Dom had nearly jumped through the roof when he had landed rather hard on the over stuffed pack. Santiago ripped a piece of Rockworm meat off with his teeth and chewed as he got back up to maximum speed, taking the canteen back from Marcus and washing the slightly bitter tasting meat down.

He thought back to the grenade earlier, silently thanking what ever it was that had kept him from being turned into swiss cheese. He raised his canteen and glanced back at Marcus. "To our shadow," he watched as Marcus lifted his hand with the hunk of meat in it. He heard his statement echoed by Baird and Cole over the comm and wondered if he would ever get to thank the mysterious entity that was helping them. But he also supposed that just keeping himself and the civilians alive was thanks enough and he took one last drink from the canteen before stowing it in a pouch on his left leg.

-

The storage bay of the trailing derrick had been turned into a rough medical bay. The contents of several med-kits were strewn about along with blood soaked bandages and several syringes carrying antibiotics and pain killers. The remains of the Locust hide armor lay off to one side, a hole at about shoulder level soaked through with blood. The figure maneuvering around in the dark seemed almost unfamiliar with her own skin. She slid her hand over her shoulder where she had wrapped it as best she could, her eyelids already drooping from the adrenaline crash and pain killers. Her arms were thin and muscled, almost feeling ungainly to her. Her hands ghosted over her torso, feeling the ribs that expanded with each breath, the taught stomach rising and falling with her chest.

Her hand traveled lower, finding the junction of her thighs. Her fingers ghosted over the warm flesh, almost exploring further when a near physical pain bloomed in her chest. A small sob tore through the darkened bay. Her fingers had resurrected memories she had thought were long dead but Stephen's voice came back to her as clear as if he were whispering into her ear. The first time they had ever been together, he had touched her in this way. It hurt to remember, however letting go of the memory was almost unbearable. She struggled to hold on to his voice in her mind, the way his cologne smelled when he had lifted her onto the General's desk. Her hands had been shaking as she tried her best to un-tuck his dress shirt. They had both laughed when Stephen jumped at how cold her hands were. She always had cold hands, but he put them back on his skin, whispering in her ear that he would be warm enough for both of them.

It had felt like time was slipping through their fingers, nothing they did could slow the second hand's progression around the clock's face. So they sped up, not minding what clothing was left on as what had started as a slow build up turned into a desperate battle to sate both of their desires before the General returned from his lunch break. She had remembered his lips covering hers, muffling her startled cry as he entered her in one swift thrust. The thrill of the moment blew the pain from her mind as each struggled to find their release before the minute hand crossed the half-hour mark. It had all felt like a blur until that one moment, Stephen's fingers working deftly where their bodies connected, when the world ceased to exist. His lips covered hers again as she rode out the pleasure, vaguely aware of Stephen following her into that blinding ecstasy. Neither had had enough time to properly cool off as they dressed as fast as they could. She had darted out into the wide hall just as the General turned the corner coming toward his office.

She could hear Stephan straightening up papers and righting several pictures that had been toppled over on his desk. She hid near one of the windows to make sure that Stephen was alright when she saw that knowing smirk on the General's face. Stephen's color was still high and he had a conspicuous wrinkle that seemed to descend in a spiral down one pant leg. Though rather than berate his assistant, the General merely chuckled and asked how she was doing. She had run to the mess hall trying to hide her giggling as she basked in the after glow of not getting caught. That was when she had found out about Bea's engagement. And when the others had found out about her sexcapades.

The woman panted on the floor of the storage bay, her eyes closed as she tried to relish every single detail of that memory. She held it tightly to her for one more moment, then let it slip back into the oblivion that it had surfaced from. She curled up on the floor, silent tears falling from her eyes as exhaustion and the medication over came her and she settled into a deep, dreamless sleep with only the darkness to keep her company.


End file.
